


Tonight Isn’t Going To Be The Night

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nervous Connor, Sick Oliver, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Connor! Stop!” Oliver raises his voice and then succumbs to a coughing fit. “Now, I don’t know what’s going on but we aren’t going to dinner.”</p>
<p>Standing there, looking at the suit he laid out and then up at his boyfriend’s drawn complexion and red-rimmed eyes that are tear filled from coughing, Connor gives up. They aren’t going to dinner. Tonight isn’t going to be the night. “You’re right,” he says, defeated. “Of course, you’re right."</p>
<p>Oliver’s silent as he watches Connor. “What were you planning?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it was nothing. Just…” Connor looks down to play with the tie in his hand and thinks back over the last few weeks. The rainstorm that ruined his first attempt. Having to cancel on Oliver because of court before the second one even got off the ground. The fire alarm interrupting the third try. The tornado drill. The night Michaela got dumped and crashed at their place. The family gathering where Oliver’s brother and sister-in-law announced they’re expecting. You would think the universe was trying to tell Connor something. Maybe he was right all along; maybe he really doesn’t deserve Oliver after all. “Just nothing. I wasn’t planning anything.”</p>
<p>+</p>
<p>A Coliver Proposal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight Isn’t Going To Be The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill originally posted to tumlbr for: "Connor trying to propose for months but something always go wrong, until he had enough and just drags oliver to get married???" 
> 
> It's not exactly it but I tried.  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> -Jules xoxo

Tonight’s going to be the night, Connor thinks as he pulls into the parking garage. Those other times he tried to propose and it didn’t work out were just…trial runs. Practice sessions, if you will, for tonight’s success. Tonight he is going to finally ask Oliver to marry him if it kills them. Which, considering the outcome of those other dry runs, is not necessarily that unlikely of an outcome. But, Connor rationalizes as he heads up to their apartment, the failures of the past are behind him and tonight is definitely going to be the night.

The apartment is quiet when he walks in. Which is a little odd, Oliver normally has the TV or music on for background noise. “Oliver?” he calls out, setting his keys and briefcase down. He peeks into the bathroom to check if Oliver’s in the shower and it’s empty. “Ollie?” He walks over to their bedroom and his tone turns singsong, “Ollie? Where are you?” Connor stops in the doorway, taking in the drawn curtains, the tissues littering the nightstand, and Oliver burrowed under the quilt. No. No. No. “Oliver?” he asks gently, making his way over to sit next to Oliver on the bed and touch a hand to his forehead.

The gentle touch wakes him and Oliver opens his eyes with a groan. “Hi,” he grumbles out.

“Hi,” Connor replies, his tone still low and soothing.

“I’m sick.” Oliver turns a little to burrow closer.

“I can see that.” Connor smiles to himself. “What happened? I saw you this morning and you were fine.”

“Remember that throat tickle I’ve had all week?” Oliver asks and Connor gives a quick “Yeah” before Oliver continues. “It exploded around lunch.”

Connor hums in sympathy. “Do you need anything?” Oliver mumbles a no. “Maybe the shower will help you feel better.”

“Don’t wanna shower,” Oliver mumbles, drifting off as Connor cards a hand through his hair.

“Okay. You want to take a bath. I think we’ve got enough time.”

The tone in which Connor says that causes Oliver to lift his head. “What?”

“Before the reservation,” Connor says. “If you want to take a bath, I think you have enough time before we’ve got to leave.”

“You still want to go to dinner?” Oliver asks, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Well, we’ve had this dinner planned for weeks. I don’t know when we’ll get another reservation.” Even as he’s saying it, Connor knows it’s ridiculous. Oliver’s sick; they can’t go to dinner but they have to go to dinner. He cannot wait any longer to propose to Oliver. He just can’t. That’s not an option.

“Connor,” Oliver sits up. “I’m sick. We can’t go to dinner.”

“I know but…this chef is supposed to be amazing.”

Oliver looks baffled. “I—I can’t taste anything.”

“Well…well don’t you think that getting up and about will help you feel better?”

“N—no?” Oliver looks at him like Connor’s grown a second head. “What’s going on?”

"Nothing,” Connor replies, his tone too cheery. He gets up and walks over to their closet. “Do you want to wear the blue suit or the gray?”

“Con—”

“The blue one’s better.” Connor steamrolls right over Oliver’s interruption as he goes to drape the suit on the bed near Oliver’s feet. “What tie you think?” Oliver opens his mouth to intervene and so Connor just turns away to walk back to the closet. “I like that red one you have. The one with that pattern thing. Gives a nice contrast with the suit; you don’t want to get to matchy with the blue.” He returns to the bed to place the tie next to the suit. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I think that works. What about shoes?”

“Connor—”

He just cuts Oliver off again and turns to peruse the shoe rack next to the dresser. “Now the blue limits your options a little. Maybe we should have gone with the gray suit. What shoes do you normally wear with that suit?”

“Connor! Stop!” Oliver raises his voice and then succumbs to a coughing fit. “Now,” Oliver tries but a few more coughs interrupt him. He clears his throat to try again, “Now, I don’t know what’s going on but we aren’t going to dinner.”

Standing there, looking at the suit he laid out and then up at his boyfriend’s drawn complexion and red-rimmed eyes that are tear filled from coughing, Connor gives up. They aren’t going to dinner. Tonight isn’t going to be the night. “You’re right,” he says, defeated. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’m sorry. Really sorry. I don’t—I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Oliver’s silent as he watches Connor rehang the suit with a dejected air. “What were you planning?”

“Oh, it was nothing. Just…” Connor looks down to play with the tie in his hand and thinks back over the last few weeks. The rainstorm that ruined his first attempt. Having to cancel on Oliver because of court before the second one even got off the ground. The fire alarm interrupting the third try. The tornado drill. The night Michaela got dumped and crashed at their place. The family gathering where Oliver’s brother and sister-in-law announced they’re expecting. You would think the universe was trying to tell Connor something. Maybe he was right all along; maybe he really doesn’t deserve Oliver after all. “Just nothing. I wasn’t planning anything.”

“Okay.” Oliver’s response is skeptical. “As long as you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m—” Connor halts reaching up to hang the tie back up. “You know what? No.” He pulls down the shoebox he hid the ring in. The universe can do it’s worst; he’s asking Oliver to marry him tonight come hell or high water. “I was planning something for tonight,” Connor says as he walks over to the bed. He sits back down next to Oliver and places the box in Oliver’s hand. “I was planning this.”

Oliver looks at Connor with shock. “What is this?”

“Open it and see.”

With trembling hands, Oliver opens the box and carefully pulls out the ring. He covers his mouth with one hand and stares at it. “I—Connor—I—” His gaze meets Connor’s again and his eyes are teary again but it’s not from coughing this time.

“Oliver,” Connor’s voice breaks a little and he pulls Oliver’s hand away from his mouth to hold it tight. “My Oliver. Will—will you marry me?”

“Yes.” It’s breathless and awestruck. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” They grin at each other like fools and Connor takes the ring from Oliver to slip it on his finger. Connor runs a thumb over the ring and Oliver lifts his hand to cup Connor’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss that’s reverent. “I’ll marry you.”

Then, to Oliver’s eternal mortification, he sneezes all over both of them and ruins the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
